So I’ve nearly lost a week of my so-called life (if not more) to this damned gall bladder. And the last thing I want to do is complain about it. But here I am, exhausted, achy, bruised with a 100.1 fever for the 2nd straight day. I have no appetite, no thirst, no desire to watch any kind of comforting movie. And right now I’m feeling like I’m just not going to get better. The worst part of it is that I have basically no energy to even get mad about it. Or maybe that’s a good thing.
The only good thing about this whole ordeal is that if I ever had a doubt that I married the BEST man on the planet (and I didn’t have any doubts before) I am absolutely positively sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that I did. This man has been up with me at all hours, sitting with me while I wretch into a trash can, up and down stairs more times than I can count (on a recently operated on knee, no less) for whatever it is that I need. He’s taken me to the emergency room FOUR FRIGGIN’ TIMES over the last 3 weeks for cryin out loud. He’s purchased every kind of pop/juice/gatorade combo that you could imagine and doesn’t get upset when asks if I need anything from the store and I give him yet another item for his list. He’s stayed out of work for a week with me, stayed positive for me, and I just feel really really lucky to have him around.
I’m also reminded at this time of all my family and good friends out there wishing me well and hoping for a slightly less eventive next few days so that I can really recover. I’m overwhelmed with the messages, notes, and love that I feel coming at me from next door, down the street, or across the country. Seriously. It means alot.
Now, I’m gonna go run a shallow bath (not sure I can submerge my incisions), and try to cool off. Nothing worse than a fever in 85 degree temps. Well, I could think of alot of worse things actually but we won’t go there.